


trust

by bonebo



Series: McReyes Week '16 [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Infidelity, almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: It’s only on his days off--when Jack won’t answer his comm-unit and yet Gabriel can’t shake the feeling of his hands, the ghosts of his words following him through the halls--that Gabriel finds himself weak.





	

It’s only on his days off--when Jack won’t answer his comm-unit and yet Gabriel can’t shake the feeling of his hands, the ghosts of his words following him through the halls--that Gabriel finds himself weak.

Prowling Blackwatch HQ without a mission to take his mind off things, without an excuse to get away from the memories that cling to these halls, wears on his mind. His blood races hot and nervous energy all but boils under his skin without an outlet, leaving him skittish, jumpy--paranoid. He swears that piercing blue eyes follow him up and down every hallway he treads, watch him from the shadows as he makes his way to the cafeteria. He needs a distraction.

And that’s what Jesse is--just a distraction. A beautiful, useful--if annoying--distraction.

“Jefe...” Jesse’s voice is soft in the quiet, adoring in a way that Gabriel hasn’t heard in years. “When you said to meet you here...I thought it was ‘cause we’d be eating somethin’. Not that I mind just sittin’, but there’s better places to do it, don’t’cha think?"

Gabriel does think, though he tries not to--he thinks of his soft bunk and he thinks of the sweet smell that clings to Jesse’s room, and he thinks about rattling off all the reasons why meeting on anything other than neutral territory would be impossible. Instead, he tightens his grip around Jesse’s waist and quietly nods.

The kid’s already settled himself on Gabriel’s lap right there in Blackwatch’s cafeteria, like it’s something he has a right to, like it’s something they can do. Gabriel’s just glad that no one else has decided to show up for a late-night snack to witness this break of character, break of regulation, break of trust.

Even in the dim, half-lit room, his wedding band shines like it’s burning. It feels like lead instead of gold.

In response to the squeeze, Jesse shimmies closer; his legs spread wider around Gabriel’s hips, their bodies pressing together, and it’s all at once entirely too much contact and nowhere near enough. Gabriel’s heart flutters, even as guilt surges up his throat.

“Jesse. No.” He tries to use his most commanding tone, but somehow it falls flat----lacking----even to his ears. He rattles out a sigh, moving one hand to Jesse’s chest to push with the slightest pressure; and even that feels wrong. “We--I can’t.”

Jesse pulls away from the one sided cuddle session to look at his boss, assessing the situation. Quiet, thoughtful eyes, passive expression; unreadable. Just like Gabriel taught him.

“You can’t what?”

Gabriel takes a moment to hesitate, to collect himself, to swallow the lump in his throat. This is always the hardest part--pushing away anyone who gets too close, who threatens to break down the facade that is Blackwatch Commander Reyes and get a glimpse of just Gabriel, the human that lies within.

The last person he’d let in was a farmboy with kind eyes, back in the golden days of the SEP. More often than not, he wishes he could lock out the hateful man that he became.

“I can’t do...whatever this is,” Gabriel says, gesturing between himself and Jesse, to the space between. “I don’t need to. Everything is fine.”

Jesse recoils like he’s been shocked, and Gabriel hates the relief that the gap between their bodies brings him. “Everything ain’t fine! Gabe--”

“I said, I can’t do it!” Gabriel snaps, the words echoing against the walls and ceiling; huge and empty, hollow as the shell he’s made of himself. It hurts to say, tastes bitter on his tongue and cloying in his throat, but he has to--or Jesse will keep going, keep pressing until everything goes too far, and they’ll both wind up fucked. “I can’t--Jack’s trusting me to--”

Jesse holds up one hand, cuts in with a sharp, “Gabe, please--just lemme say this. Fuck Jack Morrison. The hell has he ever done to earn that trust?”

Gabriel’s expression darkens, mouth pulling down in a scowl. “We’ve been through more shit that you can even imagine, for longer than you’ve been alive. Don’t dismiss him out of hand just because you know half the story.”

“I know enough of it.” Jesse’s own expression is one of fierce loyalty and righteous anger, on behalf of his Commander--if Gabriel won’t be upset about the treatment he’s been getting, Jesse will be upset for him. Angry enough for the both of them. If things were different--if Gabriel had no commitment weighing on him, no vows to keep--it would be touching.

As it is, it’s terrifying.

“You know nothing.” Gabriel shoves at him, again--harder this time. With purpose. “If you’re not going to shut up about it, then just--leave. I don’t want to do this.”

Jesse doesn’t move back into place; not immediately. Instead he sits and just looks at Gabriel, like he’s studying a puzzle, trying to find the best way to get his desired outcome--and it should be unnerving, should be irritating, to be objectified in such a way, reduced like that. Instead, Gabriel finds himself wondering how long it’s been since he’s been looked at with any kind of desire. 

“You need to do this,” Jesse says, after the moment passes. There’s a distinct professionalism to his tone that, in someone as unapologetically emotional and passionate as Jesse McCree, is almost off-putting. “You need to take your aggression out on a partner who won’t say nothing, and Gabe--I trust you.” He brings his hand up, taking advantage of Gabriel’s stunned reaction to gently cup his cheek. “You can trust me, too.”

Gabriel stares up at him, protest dying in his throat--he tries to ignore the weight of the band on his finger, and tells himself it’s all a distraction.

Just a beautiful, annoying distraction.


End file.
